


Hung Up, Hung Over

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Lots of it, M/M, Mentions of YamaYachi and DaiYui, Reconciliations, Regret, drunk suga, resolved angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Suga drinks way too much after seeing who shows up at the wedding he's attending, and definitely too much for him to refuse a dance with the guy he'd rejected forever ago in high school. Forget about waking up in a hotel room with that guy and a reconciliation he isn't sure he deserves.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3x3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/gifts).



> This is a gift for thebottomlesspitofbottomlessness for the HQ Rarepair Exchange 2017. 
> 
> This is not what I thought I'd write, but I'm glad it came out this way. It's adult themed, but there aren't any smutty bits other than the mention of sex acts (nothing explicit). I hope you like it, even if I did take your graduation prompt and make it all hurty! Let me know if you have an AO3 account and would like to be added as a giftee on here.

The air in the reception hall is heavy with laughter and the scent of far more food than necessary to accommodate the number of attendees, but Suga enjoys it as he watches people filter in from the room upstairs where two of his kouhai from high school have just finished getting married. The thought of the bride and groom, Yamaguchi Tadashi and Yachi Hitoka (he supposes she’s a Yamaguchi now, too), makes him smile, even though his fingers trace the base of the finger where a wedding ring of his own has yet to be placed.

He sighs. “I love weddings.”

Next to Suga, his long-time best friend Daichi rolls his eyes. “Say that after you’ve paid for one. They cost more than a car.”

“I’ll tell Yui you said that,” Suga teases, even as he leans against the table, dropping his cheek onto his hand. “A car will last ten years, maybe more, but this —” He gestures out with his free hand to the rapidly filling room. “— this will last a lifetime.”

Daichi snorts and pushes over a bottle of wine. “Never said it wouldn’t. It’s just all the pomp and circumstances that . . .” He drifts off when his audience is no longer listening. “Suga?”

However, Suga’s attention is not on Daichi, but on the trim figure just entering the hall whose gaze hasn’t strayed him his since their eyes met. His shoulders are a little wider, and he’s a bit taller than he’d been fifteen years ago, with the muscle mass one would expect of a pro volleyball player instead of a whipcord-like sixteen year old boy. Yet there is no mistaking the sharp blue eyes and the glossy black hair or their owner, Kageyama Tobio.

Suga blindly wraps his fingers around the stem of his wine glass and pushes it toward Daichi. “Fill me up, will you?”

_ It’s going to be a long night. _

 

“I hate weddings,” Suga grumbles as he tries to shake out a few more drops of wine from the empty bottle he wishes were still there. “Not enough booze.”

From Daichi’s other side, his wife Yui giggles. “You were right. He  _ is _ in a terrible mood.”

Shrugging, Daichi replies. “I don’t know what it was. He just . . . stopped waxing poetic about the beauty of weddings.”

Suga elbows Daichi and mutters, “You’re one to talk. You’d rather buy a car.”

“Suga!” Daichi shakes his head and says to Yui, “He’s drunk out of his mind. No idea what he’s saying.”

“Am not.” Suga groans as he watches the same table he’s been eyeing for the past hour. “Not nearly drunk enough. Don’t believe him, Yui-chan.”

Yui smacks Daichi on the arm with her clutch purse. “Some friend you are, Sawamura. Your friend is in distress, and you don’t have the decency to either figure out what it is so you can help or at least help him get drunk enough to forget about it.” She grabs a fresh bottle from a passing waiter and fills Suga’s glass. “There you go. Drink up.”

Suga averts his eyes long enough to send her a wobbly smile. “Yui-chan is too good for us both, Daichi.”

“I know.” Daichi drains his own drink. “You remind me of it every day.”

His glass full again, Suga is no longer listening as he turns his attention back to  _ him _ . The man who used to be the boy whose affections he had rejected on his last day of school. That had been well over a decade ago, yet Suga still remembers the day like it had just happened.

 

* * *

 

_ “Suga-san?” comes Tobio’s hesitant voice behind him.  _

_ Suga turns away from his shoe locker to find his kouhai looking at him intently. However, once their eyes meet, Tobio’s gaze shifts quickly to his slippered feet. Sensing Tobio’s nerves, Suga puts on a kind smile and asks, “What can I do for you, Kageyama?” _

_ Tobio’s feet shuffle as he casts a meaningful look to the exit. “Can I talk to you, um, outside?” _

_ Used to Tobio’s socially awkward behavior, Suga beams at him and says, “Yeah. I’ll get my shoes on.” Once he’s changed into his street shoes, Suga fings Tobio waiting for him at the door, and he follows until they’re at a relatively abandoned corner of the campus. “What’s up?” _

_ Hands behind his back, Tobio seems determined to look at anything but Suga, but he does manage to find a way to speak. “I’m not good with writing, so I just want to say this before I can’t anymore.” He finally looks up at Suga with expression is unlike any Suga recalls seeing from him before and he takes a deep breath. “I admire you very much, Suga-san, and I’ll miss you when you leave.” Bowing deeply, he adds, “Will you please accept my feelings before you go?” _

_ Suga gasps as he looks down at Tobio’s prostrate form, almost able to see the his pounding heart  from the way he shakes slightly from the effort. Kageyama Tobio has just confessed to him, and Suga has no idea what to do. It isn’t the first confession he’s received by a large margin, having received them regularly around Valentine’s day since his second year of middle school due to his charm and good looks. _

_ But those had been girls, easily frightened into leaving at the first sign of ‘no’. They were never anyone who Suga has sweat alongside, bled with, cried with, laughed with. Never anyone who had taken Suga’s dream and put it on the sidelines through sheer force of talent.  _

_ And certainly never another boy. _

_ Scouring his brain, Suga tries to recall a sign, any sign, that could have told him this was coming, but he can’t think of a single moment that would have led him here on the last day of school, searching for an answer to a question he has never once considered. _

_ As he looks down on his kouhai, Suga wonders about many things. What kind of boyfriend could Tobio be? Would there be grand gestures and flowers and declarations of love? Chocolates and affection? Hand-holding and kisses at the door when one of them leaves? Yet no matter how hard he tries, Suga can’t for the life of him imagine Tobio doing any of these things, let alone understanding that they’re all part of the process, moving wheels in the machine of romance.  _

_ With a chuckle, Suga reaches down to ruffle Tobio’s hair and says, “I’m flattered, Kageyama, but I think you’re just confused.” He pats Tobio’s shoulder and adds, “Now come on. There’s a party for us in the gym.” _

_ Suga walks away, hoping that Tobio will follow him and forget this ever happened like he plans to do, but when he glances over his shoulder, Tobio hasn’t moved an inch and is still bowed like Suga is still there in front of him and he’s still waiting for an answer. Fingers clenching into fists, Suga keeps moving with purpose, determined not to hear the shuddering hiccup behind him where he is leaving Tobio in the grass with his tears and his rejection. _

_ The party for the third years thrown by his former teammates is surreal to Suga. It’s hard to believe he’ll never set foot in this gym again, or see some of his wonderful kouhai after this day. The only thing he can feel concretely, he marks wholly aware of the irony, is that Tobio never does show up. _

 

* * *

 

Enclosed in a cocoon of ideals he has long grown out of, Suga thinks about that day over and over, which sends him deeper into his cups as the night passes. His tongue is long-numbed to the flavor of disgust he gets whenever he thinks of his stupid, self-righteous past self. The naive boy who assumed that frills and thrills were the whole of romance, the one who had no room for a stammered confession from a guy who had probably spent days, maybe even weeks or months, screwing up the courage to give. The one whose tears of defeat Suga had washed down with punch and cake.

The one who is coming this way.

“Oh, god, Daichi, you have to hide me,” Suga says as he tries to climb out of his chair and duck behind his friend, who had frowned deeply and shaken his head with something akin to disappointment when Suga had told him about Tobio’s confession. He hadn’t said a word, and that’s when Suga realized that Daichi knew something he didn’t. Something he knows now, which is why he wants to melt into the floor rather than confront his worst moment as a human being.

Next to him, Daichi scoots his chair closer to make sure Suga’s can no longer slide out. Picking up his own glass, he says, “Nope. You need to do this.” When Tobio is too close for Suga to make a clean getaway, Daichi relinquishes his hold and takes Yui’s hand. “I’m going to dance with my wife while you face the music.”

Yui gives them both an odd look but allows Daichi to lead her away, leaving Suga alone as Tobio approaches the table.

With a nod of the head, Tobio says, “It’s good to see you again, Suga-san.” Holding out his hand, he asks, “May I have a dance?”

Suga blinks in surprise but stands to take Tobio’s outstretched hand. “Sure.” His liquid legs make it hard for him to pry himself out of the tangle of chairs, but soon he’s being led to the dance floor by a very much sober Tobio with no idea what made him agree to it.

The song changes to some old, sappy ballad, and Suga wants to sit on the floor and throw a tantrum over his luck. However, such a gesture is unnecessary as they begin to move, with his impaired senses softly being guided by Tobio’s steady grace.

Heavy head drooped on Tobio’s shoulder, Suga mumbles, “Didn’t know you could dance.”

“I learned,” Tobio answers as he angles his body to accommodate Suga’s drooping form. “You drink a lot, Suga-san.”

Suga snorts into Tobio’s shoulder. “Only when I’m with you.” He burrows his face more deeply into the soft linen of Tobio’s shirt, taking in the scent of laundry detergent and clean-smelling cologne. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you.” Tobio reaches over to dash a lock of hair from Suga’s face. “Suga-san?”

“Hmm?” 

“Do you remember that day?”

Suga jerks back in surprise, bumping his head on Tobio’s chin before stepping on his foot, and their dance abruptly halts. He opens his mouth to demand why Tobio would bring that up, why he would want to think about it, but all he can manage to do is droop his head in shame and answer, “Like it was yesterday.”

Wordlessly, Tobio takes Suga’s hand once more and starts their dance over again. Hoping that’s the end of it, Suga resumes his slouch as he makes a concerted effort to avoid drooling on his partner’s shoulder. The song soon ends and another begins, this one much more brisk in its pace, but they keep swaying to a long-gone beat and Suga doesn’t have the will to pull away.

His eyelids grow heavy, and as he falls asleep standing up and in the arms of the man he had spurned so long ago, Suga scarcely recalls his last waking moment, which is the sensation of a warm pair of lips on his forehead and a feeling of heady bliss as he is swept off his feet.

 

Angry light  buffets Suga’s eyes as he opens them, streaming in through an open window that his weary brain registers is not his. “Make it stop,” he whines as he takes the pillow under his head and flops it over his face. As if on command, there is the clatter of blinds dropping, and the noisy light ceases enough for Suga to slowly peel the pillow from his face.

He slaps it back down, however, when he sees a pajama-clad Tobio sitting on the edge of the unfamiliar bed, holding out a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. “Here.”

Suga takes them both, knowing his hangover will end quicker with their aid, and greedily guzzles the entire glass and four of the pills. “Thank you,” he gasps, his mouth still dry and disgusting.

Tobio disappears for a moment before returning with a pitcher of icy water that he sets on the end table. “You’ll need this.”

Filling and draining his cup twice more, Suga eases himself back against the headboard and looks around before meeting Tobio’s expressionless gaze. “Is this your hotel room?”

“Yes.”

“Not ours?”

“Um, no.”

“So we didn’t —”

“No.”

Heaving a sigh of relief that makes the water in his stomach slosh uncomfortably, Suga closes his eyes and murmurs, “This is so embarrassing.”

There is a hint of a guffaw before Tobio answers, “A little.” He turns to look out the window that’s no longer open and slumps. “I almost didn’t come back, but Hinata told me he would kill me in my sleep if I didn’t.”

“You’re on the same team, right? Down in Nagoya?”

Tobio nods. “Yeah, but not anymore.” He kneads his lower lip with his teeth before he admits, “I’m retiring after this season and moving back home.”

“Oh.” Suga gives him a sad smile. “Are you sad about it?”

With a heavy breath, Tobio shrugs. “A little? I’ve already played longer than most guys do, and I did everything I ever wanted to do. I won a championship, I played in the Olympics, and that was just five years out of high school. I kept playing because it’s all I’ve ever known, but the longer I went on, the more I wondered ‘what else is there?’.” He turns to look at Suga. “It took a while, but I realized that I wasn’t missing anything on the court. I didn’t need a reason to go to play; I just had no reason to go home.

“I tried dating. There were a few girls, one guy, and they were nice. The sex was good and I didn’t mind sharing a bathroom with someone else’s stuff as much as I thought I would.” Tobio lets out a humorless snort of a laugh before slumping his weight on his thighs. “But none of it changed anything. I still ruined every relationship I tried to be in because nothing any of them ever did could motivate me to leave practice on time just to spend a few extra minutes at home, or take them out to dinner on an off-night for no reason at all.”

Suga’s chest feels tight as he listens, wondering how the awkward boy offering his love had become this solitary being who has far too much time to think about how lonely he is. “I’m so sorry,” he gushes, burying his face in his hands. His voice as muffled as he pours out years of regret. “I was so stupid back then. I thought it all had to come with flowers and chocolates and mix CDs and all that, but I didn’t understand anything at all. I broke your heart, and not once in fifteen years have I picked up a phone and told you that I was sorry, or tell you that you knew more about how to love somebody than I ever did. I’ll never, ever forgive myself for doing that to you.”

Tobio shakes his head. “It wasn’t you, Suga-san. I did it to myself because I rejected my instincts to protect myself. I told myself for years that I wasn’t lonely and I didn’t need anybody. I’ve always been alone, so why would one confession change any of that?”

Eyes full of tears and throat full of emotion ready to choke the air out of him, Suga hiccups. “You don’t even know, do you? You don’t even realize it.” He shudders as he exhales, reeling his head back to well up his eyes. “Of course you don’t need somebody else to be happy; most people don’t. I just destroyed your will to try, and I am so ashamed of that.” Holding out his arms, he grabs Tobio and wrenches him to his chest. “I told you that you were confused, but I was the one who was confused.”

Tobio drapes his head in Suga’s lap, his breath slowing and evening. “I was confused a little. I didn’t even know if you liked guys or not.”

Suga lets out a watery laugh that is wet enough to be a sob. “I was in my experimental phase then. I jacked off to a lot of baseball magazines that year.” With a huff, he adds, “And once to Ushijima’s picture in  _ Volleyball Monthly _ .” Tobio’s head jerks out of Suga’s lap as he gapes in horror. “What, he’s hot!”

Arms crossed, Tobio returns to his portion of the bed’s edge. “I guess.” He blushes and grumbles. “I get what you mean.”

The unease of the conversation melting away, Suga finds himself smirking as he suggests, “Let me guess . . . Oikawa?” When Tobio shudders, Suga amends, “No, Iwaizumi. The Seijou ace.” He takes Tobio’s cringe as affirmation and gives him a playful punch in the shoulder. “No shame in that, Kageyama. I’d let him push my face into a pillow anytime.” When Tobio chokes on his shock, Suga laughs. “Prude.”

“Am not.” 

Having solidly settled on his own deduction, Suga climbs out of the covers and sits next to Tobio on the edge of the bed. “Thank you, by the way, for taking care of me. I appreciate it, and Daichi probably does, too, since he was my ride home.”

“I let him know I was taking you home, and he gave me directions.” Tobio’s cheeks color as he admits, “But I got lost three times, so I just brought you back here.”

Throwing back his much better-feeling head, Suga cackles. “Oh, that sounds like you all over.” Sighing, he drapes his head on Tobio’s shoulder, appreciating the much warmer scent of his loose-fitting old t-shirt over the highly-pressed shirtsleeves from the night before, though a hint of the cologne is still there. “You still smell good.”

“Suga-san, can I ask you something?”

Suga nods into Tobio’s shoulder and murmurs, “Sure.”

“I don’t expect you to say yes, but can I take you out to dinner?”

Not expecting that at all, Suga slips off the edge of the bed and sprawls on the tatami, blinking up at Tobio in surprise. “You still want to date me? After all that?”

Tobio shrugs. “I am starting my life over. I have to start somewhere, so I’ll do it where I made my last mistake.” He stands and holds out a hand. Suga takes it and allows himself to be hefted back to his feet, where he stands chest to chest (as much as he can with the almost ten centimeter gap in their heights) with Tobio. 

Their breath mingles as they look into each other’s eyes, Suga’s tired ones and Tobio’s a-little-softer-around-the-edges ones. An urge takes over Suga and he gives into it, looping his arms around Tobio’s muscled shoulders and running his fingers through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck. This isn’t the same person who he had played volleyball with, nor the same boy he had spurned so long ago. Tobio’s focus and drive has evolved into earnestness and honesty that takes Suga’s breath away. But Suga isn’t the same, either. He’s older, smarter about things that matter, and ready to give them both a chance to correct an error.

He doesn’t know which of them moved first, but their lips meet in the middle for what has to be an unpleasant kiss for Tobio. Suga’s breath tastes stale against Tobio’s minty-fresh mouth, but neither of them complain while Tobio’s arms wrap around the waist of Suga’s borrowed pajamas and heft him upward enough to capture an new and delicious angle.

Suga finally breaks away, light-headed from the air being stolen by his first kiss after an admittedly long dry spell. “Wow.” He can’t stifle a giggle as he drops his forehead on Tobio’s shoulder to feather a kiss on the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. “You know that’s a yes, right?”

“I figured, but I’m glad you said it anyway.”

Closing his eyes to a variety of emotions — relief, weariness, and just a dash of desire — Suga hums and smiles into Tobio’s skin and doesn’t let go for a while.

Whether it’s extracting himself from Tobio’s warmth to answer the door for room service or falling right back into it as they sit side by side on the bed to guzzle a whole lot of noodles, Suga knows that something lost between them is slowly but surely mending. But what keeps him smiling through his second and third helpings is the knowledge that something new is weaving itself in alongside it, and while Suga thinks he has a pretty good idea what that might be in the long run, he can’t wait to find out with a great guy by his side.

 


End file.
